


Debts

by s1ncer1ty



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s1ncer1ty/pseuds/s1ncer1ty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili is beaten within an inch of his life -- and all signs point to Bofur as the culprit. But how can he clear his name when he can't even remember what happened that night?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Debts

 

Bofur awoke with a blinding pain behind his eyes and his throat feeling as if he'd swallowed sand. It had been ages since he'd been hung over, but surely, he hadn't had quite so much to drink the night before as to incapacitate him the next morning. He groped first at his forehead -- discovering one of his braids had come undone in his sleep -- and then along the floor for his hat, which to his dismay was nowhere to be found.

 

Wait ... The floor?

 

Squinting, Bofur pushed himself upright into unfamiliar surroundings -- this was not his cozy room, with its wooden toys whittled in off-times and bedding that smelled eternally of the mines. Instead, an undertone of mold tickled his nose, and hard cobblestones lay under his legs instead of his soft straw mattress.

 

As he shook his head to clear his vision, the iron bars that separated him from the rest of the world came into focus.

 

"Hello?" he called through a thirst-roughened throat and a tight chest, his brows drawing together as he spied a figure in the shadows several feet from his cage.

 

The figure was still a moment, before stirring, and Bofur could just barely make out the stout outline of another dwarf as it rose to its feet from a chair.

 

"Hello?" he tried again. "I don't understand. What is going on? Why am I here?"

 

The figure approached slowly, feet striking coldly against the stones. As it moved into the dim light, Bofur was able to make out the features of Fili, the elder nephew of Thorin Oakenshield, his eyes hard and narrowed.

 

"So, you're awake," he said. "Now. Tell me. What did you do to my brother?"

 

"Your ... brother?" asked Bofur, confusion clouding his features.

 

Before he could go any further, a shout rang out from above them, and the weaponsmaster Dwalin came nearly stomping down a set of stairs that led to the holding cell. "And just what do you think you're doing down here, laddie?" he demanded of Fili. "Your uncle would have both our hides if he knew you were here."

 

"Getting answers," said Fili, squaring his shoulders as he faced the taller dwarf. "Thorin does not have to know I was here. Tell me, Dwalin, how does my brother fare?"

 

Dwalin fixed Bofur with a hard glare. "I think we've all the answers we need. Delirious, he is. Keeps crying out in his sleep, 'Bofur! Bofur, stop!'"

 

"Wait -- will someone please tell me what is going on?" interjected Bofur, wrapping his hands around the bars of his jail.

 

"The culprit wants to know what's going on," said Dwalin mockingly. "You should beg forgiveness of the wee bairn laid up with the worst beating I've ever seen of a dwarf in my life."

 

"What?" exclaimed Bofur, a hand rising to his throbbing head. He swayed a little, catching a short breath, as he struggled to comprehend what was happening to him. "Who's hurt Kili? What is this all about?"

 

Fili silenced Dwalin's returning growl with a hand upon his arm, and ignored their prisoner's pleas. "Leave us. I wish to have a word with Bofur, alone."

 

"I hardly think that is proper -- or safe," uttered Dwalin reluctantly.

 

"There are iron bars that separate us," said Fili. "He can no more harm me than I may harm him."

 

Dwalin frowned darkly. "Balin watches over your brother, in your absence. Someone must relieve him soon."

 

"Go to Kili, Dwalin. I shall keep watch over the prisoner myself. He will not step out of line. Alert me at once should Kili's condition change."

 

Dwalin glanced warily between the two, his jaw tightening at the resolve in the young prince's eyes. "Aye," he uttered, although it was clear he did not care for the conditions. "But 'tis not on my hands should Thorin discover your current whereabouts." He turned on a heel and strode back to the stairs.

 

When Dwalin had departed, Fili rounded on Bofur. "Talk," he demanded. "I need to know why my brother lies beaten to within an inch of his life. Why you were found unconscious beside him. Were you drunk again?"

 

"I've no idea what you're talking about, lad," said Bofur, taking a single step back despite the bars that separated him from the hard-eyed young prince. "If someone's hurt Kili --"

 

"This was found in your hand!" Fili exclaimed, thrusting a torn, bloodied cloth before him. "Kili's shirt! His blood is beneath your fingernails! Whatever got into you last night that you had to beat my brother so?"

 

"I --" Bofur began, his brows drawing together as realization dawned upon him. "I don't remember..."

 

\---

 

He'd been but a day behind bars -- what seemed to him like an eternity -- when word finally reached Bofur's brother and cousin that he'd been detained. Although Dwalin, assigned to keep watch over the prisoner for the day, had his reservations, by the tradition of their kind, he begrudgingly allowed them several moments with Bofur.

 

The pair stood in awkward silence for several long moments, simply staring in shock at their kin behind bars, before Bombur stepped forward.

 

"Here," he said shortly, pulling a small cloth-wrapped bundle from beneath his cloak and surreptitiously sliding it through the bars. "I'm sure they're not feeding you enough. It's not much... but it will give you strength."

 

Bofur quickly glanced to see if the guards had spied the exchange before he untied the fabric, revealing two apples, a small wedge of cheese and a loaf of bread within. "Thank you, Bombur," he murmured.

 

"You don't even have to share," said his brother with a sad smile, his expression falling when he was unable to rouse even the smallest grin from Bofur in return.

 

Bifur gave a grunt of impatience and signed angrily, his fist smacking hard into his palm. _Door. Lock. Break._

 

"Bifur, no," said Bofur firmly. "It won't do any of us any good."

 

"But you've been accused of nearly killing young Kili," said Bombur. " _Murder_. You didn't do it, did you?"

 

Bofur slowly shook his head. As hard as he tried to muster a smile, he couldn't do it -- not even for his own brother. "'Twas not I that harmed Kili. You must believe me. But yet, I can't leave, even if I am innocent."

 

Bombur frowned. " _If_ you are innocent?"

 

"I can't remember!" Bofur said sharply. "It's like there's something that doesn't want me to know what I truly did the other night. But I couldn't have harmed Kili. I couldn't! I just … don't recall…"

 

Bifur thrust a thumb toward his chest, and pointed to the axe eternally embedded in his forehead.

 

"Yes, a little like you, after your own incident," said Bofur sadly.

 

"What are we supposed to do, though?" inquired Bombur. "Allow you to be accused of a crime you didn't commit?"

 

Bofur shook his head. "I do not know. So much all points to me, regardless. The blood on my hands... the torn shirt..."

 

"But you couldn't have done it! You said so yourself!" exclaimed Bombur, while Bifur spat several short phrases in _Khuzdul_. "Exactly!" Bombur agreed. "You shouldn't be here! Not unless they've definitive proof!"

 

Bofur sighed and shook his head, rubbing his chest with a free hand. "But we cannot dispute Thorin's will."

 

"Enough, lads," came Dwalin's voice from behind them, and Bofur scrambled to hide the food his brother had sneaked in for him. "You've seen enough for one day."

 

Bifur turned and gave a terse series of signs. _Understand. Crime. Belief._

 

"Aye," said Dwalin, looking hard at the other dwarf. "I do believe he did it."

 

"You're wrong," said Bombur. "I don't know how, but we'll prove it. Bofur cares too much for the lads to want anything bad to happen to them."

 

Dwalin crossed his arms overtop his chest. "That remains to be seen."

 

\---

 

By the third night, the fight had gone out of Bofur. He'd long stopped begging his captors to allow him to explain -- not that he'd been able to give any further details of where he'd been the night Kili was attacked. The last he recalled was leaving for the mines early in the morning, followed by a day of hard labor and talk of a pint at the Three Arrows when all was said and done. After that, it was as if a black veil had been drawn down over his memory.

 

It was what he'd told his captors -- Dwalin, or Balin, who alternated between the prison block and tending to Kili -- several times over. Dwalin questioned Bofur relentlessly, his eyes glittering hard as coal, while Balin only looked reproachful and disappointed as he spoke in a quiet voice and shook his head sadly at the whole situation.

 

Even Bofur had to admit, the evidence against him, without his recall to back him up, was damning.

 

Apart from Bombur and Bifur's all-too-brief brief stay, he had no further visitors, until, in the dead of night, Fili slipped in beneath a hooded cloak, telling Balin that Thorin had insisted he take leave of Kili's bedside, for heaven's sake.

 

"Go get some rest, Balin," he said. "I'll stay here with the prisoner."

 

"Oh, I don't think your uncle would take too kindly to such a notion, laddie."

 

"Have I not been tending to Kili, just as you and Dwalin?" said Fili, drawing himself up to his full height. "It is about time I have my turn keeping watch. He'll not harm me." His brows drew down low as he glared at Bofur. "Nor I him. As much as I would like to."

 

Balin looked skeptical, but ultimately conceded to the prince's request, muttering to himself that the youth would be the death of him, but he could certainly use the rest, as he ascended the stairs, leaving Fili alone with the caged prisoner.

 

"He's not waking up," Fili blurted once Balin was out of sight. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles and his hair was frazzled, obviously not tending to his braids as diligently as he normally might.

 

Bofur turned his eyes toward the other dwarf, but made no effort to move from where he sat in the back corner of his cell. "You have my sympathies. You really do. However --"

 

"We need answers, and you're not helping. Did you know Thorin is thinking of having Dwalin take harder measures to get you to talk?"

 

"Tell your uncle he's welcome to come down here and ask me himself. I'll tell him the same thing I told the others -- there's nothing coming back to memory."

 

"You're not even trying," said Fili, his brows drawing down low. "Three days you've been here, and we're no closer to finding out what happened to Kili the other night. Come on," he snapped. "You have to remember!"

 

"If harm befell him --" He broke off, then, as a flash of recall struck suddenly, hard as a mattock against stone. _Dark eyes, rimmed with white. The smack of a fist against giving flesh. A snap of bone and a wrenching, youthful cry._ Bofur's breath caught sharply in his throat, his chest tightening at the memory.

 

"Harm... did befall him..." he said, breath beginning to come more rapidly. "But, 'twas not I to place him in peril. You must believe me."

 

Fili was silent a moment as he looked the other dwarf over carefully, his expression belying nothing of what he might have been thinking. Finally, he spoke, "I believe you. For now. And I'm going to get you out."

 

At that, Bofur sat up straighter, a look of confusion clouding his features. "I'm sorry, lad?"

 

One corner of Fili's mouth quirked up in a wry smile, and he dangled a set of skeleton keys before him.

 

\---

The instant they emerged upon the street, they ran, Fili leading the way across town to the two-story flat where he and his brother slept between trips to the forge or to the market. Bofur was anxious to stretch his legs, but the time spent idle in prison must have taken more out of him than he'd anticipated, for he was almost gasping for breath by the time they reached the front of the house.

 

Breathlessly, Bofur hid in the shadows beneath the staircase as Fili darted up to take care of their next -- slightly larger -- hurdle.

 

"He's escaped," he heard Fili exclaim as he burst into Kili's room.

 

He caught the sound of a chair being pushed back, and feet hitting the ground hard. "How is this possible?" Dwalin demanded loudly.

 

"I do not know. Balin --" Fili quickly lied. "Balin said the lock hadn't even been smashed. Maybe -- he fell asleep, and ..."

 

Dwalin growled low, and strode for the door. "He may be my brother, but I'll have his throat if that's the case. Fili, stay here. Don't move. And if the prisoner happens to show up looking for Kili..."

 

"I'll finish him off before he's had the chance to do the job himself," said Fili with a terse nod.

 

As Dwalin thundered down the stairs, grabbing his twin axes on the way out the door, Bofur slipped from the shadow, his heart pounding and chest aching for breath, and rounded the door into Kili's room. It was then that he finally let down the hood of Fili's cloak and got his first look at the injured lad.

 

"We don't have a lot of time," Fili ordered. "Look at him. Tell me what you recall!"

 

Kili lay unmoving save for the soft rise and fall of his chest. His face and chin bore multiple sunshine bruises; one eye was nearly puffed shut, and a large crimson laceration marred his left temple. There were still patches of dried blood at his nose and the corners of his lips, despite an obvious effort to clean it away. One hand rested atop the covers, swollen fingers every so often twitching, his arm bound tightly in a sling. And those were just the injuries that could be seen.

 

"That poor boy..." said Bofur, trailing off. "And you say he's not awoken?"

 

"Not for three days," replied Fili, his eyes trained upon his brother. "There was talk, for a while, that he might not awaken at all."

 

"Pray, your brother is stronger than that."

 

Fili dropped to a knee at the bedside, reaching to gingerly touch his shoulder. "Come on, Kili. You're the missing piece of this puzzle. If you don't wake, how are we to prove Bofur is innocent?"

 

"Lad," said Bofur with a sad smile. "You should be worrying less of me and more for Kili."

 

"Don't think that I do not," murmured Fili. "They said he's lucky it was just his arm that was broken. I always said Kili had a hard head. But his throat..." He brushed aside lank strands of dark hair, revealing parallel lines of blackening bruises.

 

Another flash -- _the sound of gagging, a voice strained for breath. Fighting, still, even in desperation, against the large shadow overtop him_. "Bless me..." whispered Bofur.

 

"You remember," said Fili, turning up toward the other dwarf.

 

"Look at the size of the bruises." Bofur leaned over Fili and hovered his hand over Kili's throat. The bruises fully surrounded his calloused fingers. "No dwarf could make marks so large. A man did this to him."

 

Fili's eyes widened. "You're sure of this?"

 

Bofur brought a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes tightly as he struggled to recall. "Someone tried to get him to stop shouting."

 

"More," said Fili, jumping to his feet, his eyes narrowing on Bofur sharply. "You must know more. Come now, Bofur, remember!"

 

"Kili was screaming, until fingers closed 'round his throat." Brown eyes jerked open, and he stared at Kili, as if searching the battered face for answers. "One of them knew!"

 

"Knew what?" Fili urged, shaking the other dwarf by the shoulder.

 

" _'This one is kin to Oakenshield_.' That's what he said."

 

"How many? Did you see their faces? Who did this? What more was said?" Fili demanded, his fingers tightening painfully.

 

"I don't know, lad," Bofur uttered, in shock. "D'you think I'd not tell you if I did?"

 

"Anything, Bofur." Fili shook his shoulder again before letting his hand slide back down. "Please. Hurry..."

 

The other dwarf turned to look down at Kili again, and paused as his eyes settled upon a small laceration at his left temple _. In his mind, he saw a sparkle of silver as a fist connected with the young one's face._ "A ring," he murmured. "One wore a ring."

 

"That narrows it down to a little more than half the men in the city," Fili said more than a little sarcastically.

 

"A lion's crest!" exclaimed Bofur, a shaky smile alighting on his face. "The ring bore the crest of a lion, with a sword piercing it."

 

"I know precious little of the clans of man," said Fili thoughtfully. He returned the other dwarf's smile with a thin one of his own. "It is something to go on, however small."

 

Bofur let out a sigh, and his hand clasped loosely over his chest as he leaned forward -- for an instant unable to catch his breath again. "Where do you suggest we go next?" he said finally. "We cannot stay here."

 

"Our next step is to take you where Kili was found." He paused, then, and inclined his head as he looked the other dwarf over. "Are you sure you're all right? I am sure I can find a healer who will use discretion."

 

Bofur uncurled his fingers, letting his arm slide to his side, and nodded. "No need for any fuss, lad. Right now it's important we find who hurt your brother."

 

And then, a paper-thin voice -- hoarse with pain -- lifted up from the bed beside them. "Bofur?"

 

"Kili?" Fili gasped, pushing aside the other dwarf to lean over the bed. One of Kili's eyes cracked open ever so slightly, revealing a sliver of dark brown and the white shot through with blood. "Kili, don't move. You're awake!"

 

"Where ... is Bofur?" he rasped, his face contorting with pain as, unmindful of his brother's demand, he attempted to sit up. "Heard his voice..."

 

"I'm here, laddie," said Bofur quietly, his eyes wide, although he made no move to get closer.

 

Fili placed a hand on Kili's good shoulder, as if to prevent him from dragging himself further upright, but Kili's strength gave out on its own, and he flopped back heavily onto his pillow. "Stop trying to move. You've been badly hurt."

 

"Dreamed of Bofur," said Kili weakly, his one open eye swiveling toward the toymaker. "You..."

 

Bofur swallowed hard, his breath coming with a sharp stab of pain in his chest as he gazed down at the battered lad. "I'm so sorry," he murmured.

 

That only brought confusion to Kili's face. "No," he slurred, and again struggled to push himself up. "No sorry..." He swayed a little, his eye rolling back as if he might again faint, before he finally managed to steady himself upright. "Need to... tell you..."

 

"Kili, don't! -- "  Fili jerked forward when his brother tried to rise from the bed, but the young archer shook his head, lips pressed into a thin, determined line.

 

Kili lurched as he pushed to his feet, at first reaching out and grasping the arm Fili had thrust before him to steady himself. Wincing, but with his head held high, he slowly limped his way to Bofur, shrugging off his brother's assistance and closing the gap by what seemed like sheer will alone.

 

He clasped Bofur by the shoulder with his good hand before nearly collapsing into his arms. "Thank you," he whispered hoarsely.

 

Dumbstruck, Bofur could do little more than support Kili's weight, until the younger dwarf was able to steady himself again. "Lad..." he said, almost too overcome for words. "I'd do it all again, in a heartbeat." His chest tightened again -- drawing in a wheezing breath -- and it was all he could do to keep from breaking into relieved tears.

 

_'What would I do all again?'_

 

Kili pulled back with a pained smile and gently bumped his forehead against Bofur's.

 

_He recalled a flash of cheer and good ale, the pub packed with man and dwarf alike. 'All right, good night, lads! May tomorrow bring you better riches than today!' He was only a little bit tipsy as he swung out the door and into the darkened street._

 

Footsteps, then, could be heard thundering up the stairs. "This way! They've gone to Kili!" a voice from outside called, and there was a sudden rush of people as the door swung open, Thorin Oakenshield, Dwalin, and Balin practically falling atop each other as they burst through the doorframe.

 

_Footsteps, on the cobblestones, and a strangled cry from the alleyway. 'Is everyone all right?' he remembers calling, cautiously peering around the corner. Four men, surrounding one dwarf -- a dwarf whose fierce dark eyes and wee scruff of a beard were instantly recognizable._

_'You think you can take me? I'd like to see you try!' growled the younger heir of Durin._

 

"Get away from him!" shouted Thorin, crossing the room and all too easily drawing a blade. "Kili, stand back! This is the dwarf who almost killed you!"

 

_A fist connecting with Kili's cheek with a meaty thump. A flail of motion as the dwarf surged from the arms of his assailants, only to be thrust hard against the wall, his head meeting wood with a hefty thud._

_'Stop him! Hold him down! Break his arms if you need to!'_

_A sickening twist of flesh, a resounding snap as bone ground against bone, and Kili began to scream -- only to have his cries grow choked as fingers coiled around his throat and squeezed the breath from him._

 

Kili pulled away from Bofur and slowly rounded on his uncle, a frown of confusion drawing down his brows. "What do you mean...  killed me? Uncle, he saved my life."

 

_'You'll let the lad go if you know what's good for you!'_

 

Bofur's hand flew to the front of his tunic -- yes, it was definitely harder to breathe. Soon, he would be back in custody, thrown back into a dank, moldy cell. It was such knowledge that sparked the panic that held him in its clutches, the way it had when the cavern he'd been mining many years ago collapsed, and it was hours before his brother and cousin could free him from the boulders that compressed his chest. Panic that now seemed to constrict his aching ribcage like a tightening belt, each breath a stab of pain that shot straight through his lungs.

 

_He managed to knock out the man pinning down Kili with a single blow before hands were all upon him. A boot swung hard into his ribcage, which seemed to cave inward at the blow; but he refused to give the satisfaction of crying out in pain. Another blind swing, and he connected with a man's nose with a crunch like footsteps upon drought-dried underbrush._

_And then a rag was pulled over his face, held firm by a man's oversized hand. He smelled of eucalyptus and something sickeningly fermented, and the world almost instantly began to swim._

 

"Bofur?" said Kili, his eyes suddenly white-rimmed as his head jerked from his friend to Thorin, who had halted before the two, his knife still aimed to strike. "Uncle ... stay your hand," he commanded in as strong a voice as he could manage, turning back to his friend. "You're not all right."

 

_'I recognize the beardless one. This one is kin to Oakenshield!' There was fear, and awe, and pride, all wrapped into a single statement._

_'Then let's leave a present for his dearest uncle,' said another, as he tore a strip of fabric from Kili's tunic. Thrust it into his hand. Painted his knuckles with the other dwarf's blood._

 

Bofur could not answer -- his breaths were coming more shallowly, and the world had begun to spin. He let go of Kili's arm as he struggled to find the words to assure the lad that he was all right, that no one needed to worry about him any longer. So long as the young prince was on the mend, his conscience would be able to rest comfortably.

 

_He turned to meet Kili's eyes, but they had all but rolled back into his skull, blood dribbling from his lips and nose. He hadn't been able to save the young prince, after all._

 

But no words came, and instead, he collapsed to the floor.

 

"Uncle! You must help him!" was the last Bofur heard before his world buzzed out in a blissful haze of grey.

 

\---

 

"Time to wake up, princess."

 

Bofur's eyes fluttered open, and again he found himself bedded down in unfamiliar surroundings. Only, instead of hard stones and iron bars, he was in a bed, with a soft duvet and several pillows propping him upright. As he lifted the covers, he discovered he'd been divested of his tunic, replaced instead with tight linen bindings.

 

It still hurt to draw breath, and he felt his heart pick up speed, until he glanced to his left and spied Fili gazing at him with a telltale smirk, thumbs hooked into the edge of his belt. "It's about time you woke up. I was beginning to think we had another Kili on our hands."

 

Bofur grunted and carefully felt his bandages. "How many days have I been out?"

 

At that, Fili let out a short laugh. "An hour, at best. Enough time to discover the broken ribs you've insisted upon keeping from us."

 

Ignoring the comment, Bofur said, "And how is Kili? Why are you with this poor excuse for a miner, instead of with him?"

 

"Kili is ... recovering. There's a lot more he recalls. Thorin and Dwalin are questioning him now, privately."

 

"Where am I?"

 

"My room. My bed. Even changed the sheets for you," he added with a touch of pride.

 

"So when do I have to return to my cage?"

 

Fili shook his head firmly. "You don't. Thorin has proclaimed you free. Though if I may, I suggest you rest here for the night. Of your own accord."

 

Bofur nodded and gave a thin smile. "You believed in me, laddie. 'Tis not something I'll easily forget. I'm indebted to you."

 

"Kili said you saved his life. That's worth more to me than what you may consider debt."

 

Bofur smiled sadly and shook his head. "The lad is mistaken."

 

"I don't understand."

 

"I may have intervened, but I've hardly saved his life. There's a lot more I recall now, and it was far from pretty."

 

"When did you finally start to remember?" said Fili.

 

One corner of Bofur's lip twitched upward in a failed semblance of a smile. "About a minute and thirty seconds before I made my acquaintance with the floor."

 

"Well," said Fili, sidling up to the edge of the bed, "you did make a grand exit. Gave us all quite a start."

 

Bofur looked away. "My apologies."

 

"Why don't you tell me what you remember? As a matter of business?"

 

Bofur was silent a moment more before nodding. Taking as deep a breath as he was capable, he began to explain.

 

\---

 

"Psst. Bofur, are you asleep?"

 

Bofur turned toward the voice coming from the crack in the doorway. "Not anymore, laddie."

 

The door creaked open, and there stood Kili, leaning heavily against the frame and panting a little from exertion, but grinning broadly at the same time. "I wanted to check on you," he said unapologetically. "No one's allowed me out of bed to see you. Fili's been standing guard over me like a watchdog."

 

"How did you get past him, then?" With a wince, Bofur sat up in bed and leaned against Fili's pillows for support.

 

Although he limped heavily, Kili was surprisingly silent as he entered the room, setting down a candle held in his good hand at Bofur's bedside. "Easy. I stepped over him."

 

"You ... what?" Bofur could not help but grin at the expression of feigned innocence on Kili's face.

 

"He's finally getting the sleep he's needed for days. Passed right out on the floor."

 

"Shouldn't you be resting up yourself?"

 

"They tell me I've been asleep for days now. I'm far from tired."

 

Bofur began to chuckle a little at Kili's nerve, but found himself unable to suppress a wince as another wave of pain shot through his chest. "At least... have a seat," he said, painstakingly shifting over to make room on the bed next to him.

 

The smile fled from Kili's face, replaced instead with a frown of concern, and with more care than should have been necessary of a dwarf his age, he slowly lowered himself down to sit beside Bofur. "How are you feeling?"

 

"Like I've been run down by a runaway pony. 'Tis nothing a bit of rest won't cure."

 

"I am sorry for waking you."

 

"Don't be worrying. I wasn't actually asleep. How can I?"

 

"Not sleeping? What troubles you?"

 

Bofur was silent a moment. "I think," he said, "you are under the impression that I'm something I'm not."

 

"And what's that?"

 

"A hero."

 

Kili frowned. "But you are. If not for you --"

 

"If I'd gotten there sooner, I might have spared you greater injury."

 

"Because you got there at all, I'm still alive. Or do you not remember this?" Kili asked, pulling aside his tunic to show the discoloring bruises around his neck.

 

Bofur flinched faintly, before giving a thin smile that did not reach his eyes. "It shouldn't have happened at all, lad."

 

"But it did," said Kili emphatically.

 

With a grunt of pain, Bofur tried to turn away, only partly succeeding. "Please, go back to your room. You need to be resting."

 

Kili arched a brow. "I won't. Not until you stop wallowing." He chuckled shortly -- more a cough than a laugh -- and shook his head. "This isn't the Bofur I know -- the one who made us laugh with his wooden puppets. The one who made me my first bow, and denied all responsibility when I managed to shoot my uncle in the arse."

 

"Don't do this."

 

Kili simply smiled and shook his head. "I'm afraid you've little choice. I'm not planning on leaving unless you accept that you've done more than a little good."

 

Bofur sighed, turning back to face the other dwarf with a gloom so out of place on his typically cheerful face. "D'you know the last thing I saw that night? I saw your face, beaten and bloodied. You weren't conscious. I didn't know whether or not you even survived. How could I have lived with myself? You're -- you're one of the lads I'd never had. What if --" He broke off quickly as he felt his voice on the verge of breaking.

 

With care, Kili rested a warm hand on Bofur's shoulder. "No 'what-ifs,' my friend."

 

Bofur nodded, and took comfort in the touch until it slid away, and Kili sat looking him over thoughtfully in the flickering candlelight.

 

"You know what you need?" He asked with a grin. "You need that awful hat you always insist on wearing. You know, the one that looks as if you'll sprout wings and fly off at the slightest breeze? You look all but naked without it!"

 

Unconsciously, Bofur reached up, as if feeling for the hat that would otherwise have been perched on his head. "I have been feeling a bit of a draft," he said, feeling the corners of his lips perk up in spite of his mood.

 

"I'll have Fili go and fetch it on the morrow."

 

"Now see here. Who's to say I'll still be here tomorrow?" asked Bofur with a lift of an eyebrow.

 

"Of course you'll still be here. You're our guest!" Kili proclaimed. "Besides, until those men are caught..."

 

"I'll not live in fear," he interjected.

 

"'Tis not them you should fear, but the wrath of my uncle, if you were to be injured further. No, we're both ordered to remain housebound. I'm not saying I much like it either, but I wouldn't dispute Uncle on this."

 

"And what of those men?"

 

"My uncle has already sent out a group of dwarves to flush them out. Bombur and Bifur included."

 

This time, Bofur did actually smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling up at the thought. "I'm certain they were the first to volunteer."

 

"They'll find the men who did this."

 

"And woe be unto them."

 

"Exactly. And in the meantime," said Kili, his smile turning wicked, "I'm plotting our escape from this place!"

 

Although it hurt, Bofur could not help but laugh.

 

\---

 

Balin sat watch inside Kili's room, where he and Bofur had chosen to alleviate their housebound boredom through a game of strategy. Kili's brows were drawn down low as he concentrated on moving the wooden pieces about the board, which rested upon a tray in his lap. It was clear to all but Kili that he was at a disadvantage; Bofur, laughing freely for the first time in days, shook his head and quickly countered the younger dwarf's move, to a cry of displeasure.

 

A knock on the doorframe brought them both from the game, and Kili smiled at the newcomers. "Uncle, you return."

 

Thorin was flanked by Fili and Dwalin on either side, both exuding an aura of pride, while Bombur and Bifur strode into the room behind them, still hefting their respective cast iron ladle and boar spear.

 

"The brave warriors return!" exclaimed Balin. "How fared ye?"

 

"It is done," said Thorin, tossing a small, cloth-wrapped bundle onto the tray, unmindfully scattering the wooden figurines.

 

Bofur picked it up, his expression unchanging as he unwrapped the scarlet-stained fabric to reveal a single bloody finger, still sporting a ring between two knuckles. He gingerly turned it over, nodding as he recognized the telltale lion, and met Thorin's gaze with a lopsided grin. "Well done, lads."

 

Bombur spoke from beside the doorway: "It turns out you weren't the first dwarves to have run afoul of them. There's been a rash of robberies in that part of town, all targeting our kind."

 

Bifur, too, attempted to interject with a series of grunts in _Khuzdul_ , to which Bofur nodded and spoke in his stead. "Kili was just the first to fight back."

 

"They've been turned over to the authorities of men," said Thorin.

 

"More or less," laughed Kili.

 

"They'll be bothering our kin no longer," he continued, after silencing his younger nephew with a hard look. "Bofur, we are in your debt."

 

"Nae, it is I who am in yours."

 

Thorin regarded the other dwarf shrewdly. "There will come a time when I will need you again. I will call."

 

Bofur nodded with a sincere smile. "And I will be at your service, my king."


End file.
